


Anthropotheism

by The_Readers_Muse



Category: Olympus Has Fallen (Movies)
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe - Daemons, Daemons, M/M, Pre-Slash, Set pre-Olympus has fallen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-22 08:02:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9594836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Readers_Muse/pseuds/The_Readers_Muse
Summary: Hell of a first day on the job.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own "Olympus has Fallen" or "London has Fallen" that is all someone else's playground.
> 
> Authors Note #1: This story is based before the canon events of "Olympus has Fallen." This is my take on how Mike might have met President Benjamin Archer. – This fic focuses on the daemon!trope, from "His Dark Material's" series, by Phillip Pullman. I recommend reading the wiki on the subject, but here is what is relevant for this story. *Dæmons are the physical manifestation of a person's 'inner-self'/soul that takes the form of an animal. Before puberty, children's dæmons can change form to become any creature, real or imaginary. During their adolescence a person's dæmon undergoes "settling," where the dæmon assumes the form of the animal which the person most resembles in character. Dæmons and their humans are almost always of different genders, except for homosexual characters which, are referenced as having a daemon on the same gender (in this case, both Mike and Ben's daemons are female as I see them as more bisexual characters, considering their respective previous relationships). Touching another person's daemon is strictly taboo and unless done with the full consent of both the daemon and the human, is a feeling akin to rape. It is acceptable between lovers but considered deeply intimate. A daemon and human can only be separated by a relatively small amount of space, so even if your daemon is a bird, they cannot fly far or high from their human counterpart.
> 
> Warnings: daemon au, adult content, adult language, canon typical violence, pre-slash.

It was only when Ursha straightened beside him that he stood up and adjusted his tie. Smile slipping smoothly into place as the President's personal secretary trotted into the sitting room. Her brightly colored tree frog daemon clinging loosely to the shoulder pads of her dress as she greeted him with a harried nod.

"Agent Banning? The President will see you now."

They followed behind as she knocked on the door at the end of the hall - touching her hand to her headset. Politely ignoring Ursha when she sneezed. Highlighting the dust motes that were dancing overhead like miniature star-systems whenever they caught the light.

"The First Lady has been overseeing some renovations to the residential wing before they move in. Something about a complete kitchen remodel. We're going to have learn to live with the dust for a while yet, I'm afraid," the woman commented, keeping her eyes on him as Ursha shook herself. Looking down at her lioness paws in clear distaste as a fine coating of drywall dust tacked across the plush red carpet. Marking the way they'd come like breadcrumbs in a fairy-tale forest.  
 _  
"When'd you get so fussy?"_ he sent her silently, making no effort to hide his amusement. Knowing she'd be able to sense it anyway as her tail whipped across the back of his legs in retaliation.

 _"You have shoes on,"_ she pointed out, definitely miffed.

 _"Whiny,"_ he goaded. Needing the reckless part of the distraction right up until the woman opened the door and the man himself fixed him with a welcoming smile.

"Agent Banning, come in."

The President greeted him warmly. Coming around the desk to shake his hand as a trio of officials and their respective daemons collected a sea of file folders and let themselves out, closing the door behind them.

It wasn't the first time he'd met President Benjamin Archer, but it was the first time he'd spent any real time with him - notably alone. He'd served as part of the protective detail for the family during the last leg of the election circus. Familiarizing himself with them and their habits as his application quietly made its way through the system. He knew the White House like the back of his hand, and considering he liked the First Family, it'd seemed like the logical step. He knew his skill set. He knew what he brought to the table. And frankly he was confident he had what it took to keep them safe for the next four years. Hopefully eight, if the opposition kept on the way it was going. He'd fought wars in countries he'd barely been able to pronounce that were less scary than some of the shit coming out of their mouths lately.

"I wanted to be one of the first to congratulate you on your promotion. I have to say I was pleased to see you in the ring when it came down to the director's final recommendations. I appreciate the solidarity by the way. Not being the only newbie around here. I know you're familiar with how things work around here, but the vetting process is tough for head of security. Even for a person with your qualifications. It's a whole different ball game where you're the one calling all the shots. Believe me, I know."

"It's an honor, sir," he answered, pleased that he could do so honestly.

"You probably know the place better than I do. We're still getting settled in. Maggie sends her apologies, something came up at Conner's school."

"Not a problem, sir," he returned crisply, hands posed palm on top of palm in front of him. Already aware of the First Lady's whereabouts. He'd assigned Roma and Arcus - his black and tan Doberman Pinscher daemon to head her protective detail for the day. Hell, he was barely experiencing first day jitters. So far they were on schedule and the team rotations he'd chosen were meshing above expectations.

But what _did_ catch him off guard was when Ursha settled in beside him. Sitting upright and pretty instead of her usual careless lounge. The one almost everyone took for nonchalance and laziness until she flipped the script and showed them otherwise.

The President's eyes flicked down, taking her in. The action itself nearly making him choke when she only preened in response. Licking her muzzle as her golden fur tinted the air in a muted bath of Midas-gold. Getting the distinct impression he'd missed something as the moment only grew in significance instead of tapering off.

He sent her a mental question mark. Something tangible and clearly more of a _what the fuck are you doing?_ sort of feeling, that she just returned with warm amusement.

It was one the first things a child learned. People didn't acknowledge other people's daemons. Especially people you didn't know well. It was something that required intimacy and sometimes even then it wasn't universal. Daemons could and did interact with one another without compunction but often remained aloof unless they knew each other. Otherwise the reality of human-daemon interaction was clear. It was borderline taboo and for good reason. Your daemon was your living soul. It was the deepest and most honest representation of who you were. And therefore, had to be protected at all costs.

_This was a statement._

A line the man was drawing in the sand right off the bat.

_The only question was why._

"She's lovely," the President commented, catching him off guard as the man openly gestured towards his daemon. Registering her surprise along with his own at the breach of social protocol as the tuft of fur between her shoulders prickled into hackles "Ursha? Am I right?"

He nodded stiffly, trying not to let the inevitable shiver that came with someone calling her by name show as the man watched him closely. Unsure of what to do with the frisson of uncertain intimacy the feeling provoked.

Ursha however only chirped, low and honey-tongued in clear approval like flattery got you everywhere and this was a concept she was buying into now as the President smiled genuinely. Crinkling the laugh lines around his eyes as his daemon finally looked up from her place below the window. Massive head leveling even with him for a long moment before settling on her haunches. Able to feel the vibrations as the ripples of her immense weight traveled through the floorboards under their feet.

"You don't see many lion daemons," the President commented after a moment. Gaze shuttered and calculated as he watched him with keen eyes. Missing nothing and probably picking up far more than he was comfortable with sharing.

His smile went tight. Remembering how gorgeous Ursha looked when her muzzle was flecked with blood and grit. Sharp claws hooked and extended as she took out an enemy combatant running - lips pulled back in a guttural snarl. Mirroring him in every way, just as nature had intended as he slammed the other over a natural ridge in the terrain. Breaking their windpipe with the sharp of his palm before kicking the wheezing flesh over the edge and signaling to his team the all clear.

His eyes flicked over to the man's daemon before answering.

"Perhaps as often as one sees a politician with brown bear for a daemon, sir."

Interest and something that felt remarkably like recognition flashed as the words aired out. Two people seeing something of themselves in each other. Hell if he knew how it worked. All he _did_ know was that somehow, on some level, the man had made him. And instead of keeping the realization close to his chest, he made sure the man knew it.

"You know, when Kumi finally settled both my parents were furious," the President mused. Head tilting over at the muted television in the far corner of the room, currently playing a commercial for whitening toothpaste. "Politicians don't have daemons like that. They have ones that are small and easily hidden - ones where you can keep who you are close to your chest. At the time I was just glad to be able to stick it to them anyway I could. Self sabotage sure, but mostly it was my way of punishing them for having my life planned out for me since the cradle."

The crazy part was that it fit. The man's daemon? He'd done his homework. The Asher name was well known in business and politics long before President Asher had come around. But out of all of them, he seemed to be the black sheep of the family. What with his sweet nature and sleepy, lumbering bear daemon. But he'd never been completely fooled. He'd seen the switch more than once before. Where the easy-going attitude dropped and the man's teeth came out to play. Asher didn't belong in the snake pit. He was _above_ it. _Better_. And that wasn't loyalty or patriotism talking either. Asher understood the games they played, but he never fully put his chips in. Because unlike the rest, he actually had principals he stuck too.

"First year of university I ended up falling in love with politics anyway. And it wasn't until the year I ran for senator that I realized Kumi really was the equivalent of wearing my heart on my sleeve - at least when things got cutthroat. See, Steiner- the guy I was running against at the time, he didn't take me for the one person everyone else did. Seeing Kumi as she so often is," the man imparted as the daemon in question chose that exact moment crack a yawn. Showing off rows of sharp teeth and a black and pink speckled palette. "Not _what_ she is, what _we_ _are_."

_A survivor._

An enemy only when provoked.

Smart.

Industrious.

Problem-solving.

_Placid._

_And absolutely lethal if the occasion called for it._

But instead of putting any of them to voice he simply nodded and stuck with a canned answer.

"Don't poke the sleeping bear."

The President nodded back.

"The thing is though, I'm glad. Why not be who you are? Unless you have something to hide? Kill the myth that you have to be dirty somehow to be in politics. That you can't come in with good intentions and keep them for the duration."

"Well, it worked. Didn't it?" he pointed out. Rewarded when the man smiled again. He'd been at home when CNN had called it. Asher had won the popular vote by a couple dozen landslides and just squeaked through when it came to the Electoral College. It'd been the first time he'd been in a good mood for _months._

"Yeah, I guess it did, didn't it? What about you?"

The day Ursha settled had been the same day he'd walked the four and a half miles to the military recruitment kiosk at the mall. The officer in charge had taken one look at him and his daemon and signed him up on the spot. The handshake had been firm, studded with gun-callouses and old scars and he'd liked the feel of it immediately. Wanting it for his own as the officer's German Shepard daemon hesitantly wagged her tail at Ursha's demure lounge across the tiles. He thought about how he'd known that morning when he'd woken up, half smothered under a swatch of living fur she still had to grow into, that this was the form she'd decided to settle in.

He'd just known.

More than that, it'd felt right.

This was who they were.

Now they had to deal with it.

He didn't realize he'd drifted off until he looked up and found the President watching him quietly.

"Neither of us had a chance did we?" the man offered, not rueful but not exactly smiling either. Experiencing a sober sort of solidary between them before the corner of his lips tugged upward. Unknowingly framing the next few years in it's image as Ursha leaned into him, stretching out with her paws before slowly slinking down across the carpet. Eyes never leaving Kumi's curious stare as the President's daemon watched from what was left of the sunbeam below the west window.

"I'm not the hiding sort, Mr. President," he remarked by way of answer.

"Neither am I," the man replied. Giving him the impression that he'd just passed some sort of personal test before the President was speaking again. "I think we understand one another then. Don't you?"

He inclined his head.

"Yes sir."

Ursha huffed from her place on the floor at his feet, kneading gently at the carpet like she was right at home. Ears flicking alert, as unflappable as always, as the President tried, but failed to stifle an amused sound in response.

 _"Kiss ass,"_ he sent her silently. Knowing exactly what she was doing as the President's daemon watched all three of them through half-mast eyes. Knowing he should be mortified by her boldness even as a comfortable thrum of _yes, this_ hushed through him. Because privately he was right there with her. Feeling Ursha's amusement and growing interest in the President and his daemon quickly start to mirror his own.

His hand ghosted his ear-piece as Roma and the rest of the First Lady's detail checked in over the radio.

"ETA, thirty-five minutes. In possession of Sparkplug. Sparkplug's detail following."

"Now that all that's out of the way," the President started, rubbing his hands together as his expression changed from serious to an almost boyish smile. Giving him a clear once over before catching his eyes again. "I hear you like to box, Agent Banning."

He nodded, not bothering to hide the smile this time as Ursha's tail flicked back and forth in clear interest. Getting a clue as to where this was all headed as the man made his way around the desk with the air of a man who knew _exactly_ how awesome his shiny new toy was.

"Because it just so happens that so do I. And they're setting up a brand new ring in the secondary training room right now. I thought you might want to come take a look at it. You know, in the name of national security."

He smiled again. The expression professional-thin but growingly warm in a way he'd already figured might just be habit forming. Thinking it was pretty safe to say that the man had officially set the bar right up into the stratosphere as far as employers went. Effectively ruining him for any other job as the President led the way out the door with a clear bounce in his step.

"Absolutely, sir."

_Hell of a first day on the job._


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't until Agent Banning had escorted them back to his office and left him with the vague promise of a boxing session later that week that he turned to his daemon with a raised brow. Waiting until the sound of the man's footsteps faded down the hall before blowing out a pent-up breath and scrubbing his face with his hands. Not quite able to buff out the lasting dimples of the grin the man had left him with. Something about him having to leave his title in the locker room when they did - otherwise the director would probably have him assassinated for actually hitting the President of the United States.

"What do you think?" he asked as Kumi butted into the back of his knees. Sending him sprawling back into his chair a bit more roughly than he'd intended. Patting her head with a pleasant high as he drummed the fingers of his free hand across the over-polished wood in front of him.

"He smells like blood. They both do. _His._ But mostly other people's," Kumi answered, slow to start - just like she always was - but with a conviction he'd always taken strength from. "That's the person we've chosen to protect our family."

"What does that say about us?" he mused, thoughtful. Remembering the thickness of Banning's file. How it'd felt weighty somehow. _Significant._ And how not all of it was glowing. The man was a force of nature. Rough around the edges and unapologetically human.

He couldn't deny he'd liked that right from the start.

"That we're smart," she replied, angling her head so he could scratch under her ears. Huffing gutterally as he smiled into the thick of her fur. Inhaling the familiar smell of her. "We're going into this with our eyes open, Ben. That's more than most can say. We know the risks. They know them better. We got into this because we knew we could do some good. That's worth the risk. Changing things for good reasons, not the same old bad ones. We might come from old politics, but that isn't who we are. It isn't what we're going to be. We're going to be better, for everyone."

He nodded. Banishing the usual ghosts as he looked around the Oval Office. _His office._ For the next four years at least. The campaign trail might be finally over, but now he had a hell of a lot of work to do and a hell of a lot of promises to keep. Because he intended on keeping them. _All of them.  
_  
"Though, I think we're a bit too old and too _married_ to be flirting," she added, making his head to jerk up like he'd been burned. Feeling the sharp of her point before parrying it with one of his own.

 _"That wasn't what that was,"_ he sent her quickly. Speaking to her directly through their bond this time instead of out loud.  
 _  
"Oh? Not even a little bit?"_ she mused silently, sending him an image of the two of them from her perspective. Forced to be level with the way he seemed to never stop smiling. Orbiting around the man as Agent Banning's lip quirked. Doing a bad job at hiding his admiration as he examined the newly installed boxing ring with the air of someone who'd spent more time in one than out. Someone that loved the sport for what it was. Skill against skill. Strength against strength. Someone who knew the best thing that could happen in the ring was the gift of a fair, evenly matched fight. And he had the feeling Banning had that in him in spades.

"It wasn't," he firmed out loud. Hating her a little bit when his daemon said nothing.

He loved Maggie.

That had been something else.

A different sort of chemistry.

An innate understanding and resting respect.

Something that could turn from professionalism to friendship _oh so_ easily if he let it.

And he fully intended to.

The man had seen and done so much, yet there was still something young about him.

_Whole._

"Not that I think you should worry, he wouldn't recognize flirtation from the President of the United States even if you danced in front of him naked, slathered in pink glitter and knee high rainbow socks," she said dryly. Wondering if he was imagining the shallow tint of regret lurking in the back of her tone before she was off again and he'd lost the thread before he'd really gotten his fingers around it.

"He was caught off guard when you mentioned her. His assumptions shifted. I think you took a risk, but it paid off. He won't underestimate us again, though. Not like the others. But that's what you wanted, isn't it?"

He nodded. Burying his hands deep in her shoulder scruff.

"I don't want him to," he admitted. "I needed to know if he could bend even in a place where it could hurt the worst possible way. The Secret Service tends to churn out a certain type. We need someone that can operate inside that column, but also go beyond it if they need to. This is the man who will be protecting us. _All of us._ Protecting Conner and Maggie. We need _better_ than the best and I think I found it."

She sighed, moving until her head was resting in his lap. Eyes more or less closed as they took a moment just for themselves. Admittedly there hadn't been a lot of that lately. The last leg of the campaign trail had been brutal. Long hours. Sleepless nights. Functions. Parties. Dinners. Press conferences. Debates. Speeches. Public appearances. The list had never really stopped, or even slowed down. Tack on being a husband and a father and- _well-_ something had to give, he supposed.

"Just be careful." she hummed after a moment. "He might be more than you can handle. There is nothing wrong with being what you are, but _she_ didn't settle as one of nature's perfect predators for no reason."

"I'm counting on it," he answered, remembering the depth behind Ursha's piercing stare. "I need someone that will keep me on my toes. Someone that won't cave because of _what_ we are- rather than _who_ we are. Besides, we could all use some excitement once and a while, don't you think?"

She huffed at his grin.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," she snorted, amused this time. "He's going to chew you up and spit you back out again on that ring. I'll bet he'll even hit you back."

He cuffed her ear playfully. Surprised she'd given in so easily.

Kumi was far less magnanimous than he was.

Always a little more hesitant, a little more guarded.

"High praise," he murmured. Watching his mobile light up from where he'd placed it face down on the desk. If Charlie was calling him on his cell, rather than the landline, it could wait. "Even though you're supposed to be on my side."

She sniffed at him, one meaty paw coming up to rest on his thigh in that way she had. Creasing the press of his trousers.

"But deserved," she returned simply. Sending him a handful of flashes featuring Banning and Ursha ghosting the sidelines during the campaign trail and state dinners he'd attended as a senator at the White House under the previous president. Watchful. Distant. And almost _nothing_ like the careful warmth he'd displayed downstairs when it'd just been the two of them.

"He will die for us," she warned quietly.

"They all will," he returned soberly, staring blankly at the door that led out into the hall. Knowing that Banning and the rest of his detail were close by. Idling and watchful. "That's what frightens me."

She shook her head.

"No, not like him."

He said nothing. Trying to own the resulting silence before she offered the olive branch - just like she always did.

"I do like them," she amended, like it was important she said it out-loud rather than just letting him feel it. "Both of them."

"I know," he replied, frowning at himself as he buried the strange, forbidden urge he'd fought the moment Banning had first entered the room. The one that'd twitched through his fingers as he'd wondered what it would feel like to let his fingers brush down the slim, lithe of Ursha's spine. Wondering if her fur would be soft or coarse and what kind of sounds he could pull out of the man's lips when he did.

It'd been the kind of thought that'd scared him the moment it'd fully sunk in. Making him shudder all over again as the impropriety of it splashed over him like freezing-cold water. Mentally backpedaling from the firm of such a forbidden thing. To hold someone's heart in his hands. _The very core of them._ It was a desire that he hadn't felt even _once_ before that very moment. Not even with Maggie and Testen.

Kumi didn't say anything else on the subject as they sat there together.

Fielding the same thoughts.

The same desires.

The same guilt and regrets.

She didn't have to say a word.

But in a handful of hours he would have to open that door and look Agent Banning in the eye. And for some reason that prospect has never seemed more intimidating than it did in that moment.

**Author's Note:**

> Reference:
> 
> · “Anthropotheism” – meaning the belief that gods are only deified men.
> 
> · Kumi: Ben’s brown bear daemon (female).
> 
> · Ursha: Mike’s lioness daemon (female).
> 
> · Arcus: Roma’s Doberman Pinscher daemon (male).
> 
> · Testen: Maggie’s ferret daemon (male).


End file.
